This blog includes reflections, creative work and resources. It is a glimpse of one person's journey within the realm of inquiry, experience with the human body and spirit. Look for ideas rather than answers. No claims are made. Perfection is not implied. I write as inspired to do so. Take what works for you, leave the rest. If you share anything from this blog, either verbally or in writing, please do your best to give credit where credit is due. Thank you for visiting.

Tuesday, November 1, 2011

October 31st 2008, my father's last Halloween. He shares a story of psychic experience.

To provide a little background, my father, a middle school science & math teacher, was not one to embrace metaphysical ideas. He even poked a little fun at the Association For Research & Enlightenment/Edgar Cayce Foundation in the city where I live.

On October 31, 2008 I called to wish my parents a Happy Halloween. The discussion with my dad turned to the unexplained. One thing led to another and he recounted this experience:

One day during his teaching career there was a crisis involving a boy from another class. My father did not know this boy. The boy had "trouble at home" which I assumed was abuse, neglect or sexual abuse. This boy left school distraught and it was thought he would harm himself. My father heard of the situation. Again, he did not know the boy. My father said he was worried for him and started walking as if on automatic. My father left the school grounds and knew when to turn right, left and when to go straight through and around a neighborhood he had never been in before and knew nothing about. This school district is an hour's drive from where we lived so there was no reason for him to ever travel through this neighborhood. As my father walked a police car appeared. He approached and said to the officer "follow me". The police officer asked, "You know where he is?" and my father answered, "Not really but follow me." He led the way with the officer following until the came upon the boy crouched in the yard of a random person's house. The fact that it wasn't even the boy's yard was what really astonished my father. If it had been the boy's home my father said he would have assumed he had seen the address somewhere and it lodged into his subconscious.

My father did not lie, was a truthful person and to say his love for children was significant is an understatement. It was such a gift to have him recount this experience. I gave the eulogy at his funeral. I probably could have relayed this story.

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